


Swords

by Cyath



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 15:30:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14572017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyath/pseuds/Cyath
Summary: Cloud and Sephiroth clash in a mighty battle.





	Swords

Swords

The cold mountain winds howled about the two figures as they faced off. Cold, biting, it sang its tortured song to the barren valley. Somewhere, branches laden with Nibelheim’s white hell, a tree snapped, the crack ringing out like a gunshot. Driving snow blanketed the area with a coat of white, and the cries of the wolf could be heard all around. 

This was As Ridath, the warrior’s training ground. Here was the heart of Nibelheim, the epitome of its harsh, unchanging world of ice inhabited by its warriors. Here was the pride of many a swordsman, the sorrow of just as many whose kin had succumbed to the Valley of Death. Here, the wind raged in all its merciless fury.

Here, blood had been spilled, bones crushed, dreams destroyed, all in the name of war, to better one’s mastery of the blade. Here too were friends made, teachers found…

And enemies discovered.

Claud Strife spat into the wind as he faced his friend, mentor, rival, sometimes kindred spirit…and now foe. He held the Farusion in his usual two-handed grip, blue eyes burning into his erstwhile enemy. Hatred was clear on his face.

Sephiroth smiled back, a bitter smile, as cold as the winds that now raged around them. He eyed Claud, his own white orbs taking in every detail. Hmm, he's gotten better, the onetime Valkos noted of his former protégé. Better stance, good grip, he can probably channel through that wicked-looking meat cleaver of his pretty well now. Sighing in irritation, the seven-foot tall giant of a man unsheathed his own blade, the Terror of the Wastes, Zephylos, as well.

Perhaps it was in mocking irony of his teacher that Claud's voice held no emotion whatsoever when he spoke. "Why'd you do it? Why'd you join them?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Shin-Ra is of no concern to me.”

False. The words rang false in Claud's ears, their very…wrongness seeming to scream at him. Every detail, from the way the other warrior tensed when he spoke and the slight, almost imperceptible shift in his aura told him that the words were a lie. First, the reactor incident, when his suspicions had been aroused. Now this…he would never have suspected a man as proud as Sephiroth to actually work with others. 

But could he be sure? After all, this was Sephiroth. The unknowable, always enigmatic, always aloof. But the rage asserted it's control a second later, and all reason was banished in a storm of wild fury. How dare he try to hide his foul deeds! He would pay, Claud vowed. Pay for the attack on Aerith, who was right now recovering in gods-know-where, pay for warning Shin-Ra of their attack on the Lycid Plant, pay…

"Claud. Stop it.”

Claud was too far gone to pay any heed to the voice, though a detached part of his mind noted that the voice held a slight bit of… concern? For what? Afraid that he wouldn’t be decent enough sport, that he would be cut down in a single slice? Claud had to laugh at his own naïveté. No. Not from him. Compassion had no place in such a monster’s heart. He still remembered the cold laugh he’d always given to spur him on, back then. Advice, none. Just the laugh, and then perhaps, another mocking comment, and he would be on his way back to Nibelheim, leaving him in the snow, bitter failure in his breast. He'd seen it with his own eyes, the meeting with the Shin-Ra operative. Years of suppressed anger were released as, with a savage snarl, Claud stepped forward into a crouch, the blade of his weapon now snapping and crackling with unreleased energy.

"Damn it, Claud, I don't have time for this!" Irritation quickly turned to anger. "Play your stupid games with someone else."

Games!? He dared to call this a GAME! That was too much for Claud, and the blond-haired swordsman rushed forward screaming a battle cry. “It” came at his bidding, and he reveled in its fury, letting a feral snarl escape his lips even as his sword came crashing down upon his enemy’s.

Slash after slash, furious thrust after thrust, all to no avail. Zephylos and Farusion were two whirlwinds of steel as they slammed against each other, their fury rivaling the wind’s own. Chop, hack, hew…a parry knocked a blow away just as a feint was revealed…a blade spun in a wild arc, only to twist in a guarded thrust…A murderous backhand by Sephiroth caught Claud unaware, and he was flung back into the snow, hands scrabbling for his blade’s hilt even as he rose into his customary crouch.

Damn! It seemed that he’d improved as well…new tactics were called for. He reared back, letting his power coalesce into the red flame of an Aura Spark. He’d never fought with subterfuge before, but the odds were the wielder of Zephylos wouldn’t expect him to. He smiled in anticipation as he felt the Barrier Strike of his opponent take shape. This would be good….

He yelled at the top of his voice as he released the energy blast. Standard Claud Strife Fighting Style…with a twist. He was already in the air by the time he saw his attack arrow towards Sephiroth, the green flash of his counter blazing into existence.

Now for Phase Two…focus…concentrate. That was what the Valkos of Ice had always told him. He spun about in a complete somersault, the wind in his ears, his blade a bright spark in the air as one of his deadliest attacks began. He had the power, he realized halfway through his spin. That was fast. Now, to apply it…

“BRAVER!”

He was right. Sephiroth wasn’t expecting it. With all of Claud’s considerable strength behind the Braver maneuver, it plowed through Sephiroth’s defenses, knocking the seven-foot tall warrior back. Claud grinned as his sword went to work again, sending lightning-quick slashes towards his fallen opponent even as he hit the ground. Now the bastard would get it…the Farusion’s final strike was a plume of scarlet flame as it slammed into Zephylos.

Zephylos? Uh oh…the next thing Claud knew was snow blanketing his senses. He could hear a barely audible growl escape the giant's throat as his sword shot outwards in a great scything blow, one that Claud barely blocked. The leather-clad swordsman gritted his teeth as he tried to withstand the barrage of blows being flung at him. More than once, he almost lost his grip on Farusion as he struggled to stand and parry the Northern Fury at the same time. The snow stung his eyes as he realized the bitter truth. He’d underestimated him…even after all these years, he was superior.

Better than him. Stronger than him. More skilled. No. NO! He couldn’t accept it! Not after all this time, not when so much was at stake…Sephiroth was abruptly flung away as Claud released a Blast Finisher into the ground. He was operating on a different level now, his movements quicker, more fluid. With a savage snarl, he let Zephylos hammer into him once again, only to retaliate with an Aura Blaze that melted the snow around them. Then he shot forward, his blade leading.

Zephylos dipped in a low guard stance, it’s wielder wary now. Claud could sense the change in his teacher’s aura, the increase of energy. He smiled as the wind whipped his hair around him, lending a demonic expression to his features. For a moment, teacher and student looked remarkably alike. 

So. He denigns to fight me now, hmm? Well, I do not disappoint…the blades locked once more as Claud came in with a combination thrust-slash. It was immediately evident that the former mercenary held the advantage now. With every blow he forced the Valkos back, his newfound speed aiding his already not-inconsiderable strength. Whether it was rage, skill, luck, or righteous fury, the fact remained that Sephiroth was losing.

If he was, he showed nothing. But in his mind’s eye, he saw…

*****

“Too slow, Claud. Get up.”

The boy lay sprawled in the snow, his blade a few feet from his hand. Slowly, he rose, yanking Farusion out of the ice and facing off again. Despite the tiredness that he no doubt felt, the slight limp in his otherwise strong gait, nor the wounds that marked his thin, wiry frame from today’s “training”, the flame of defiance still flickered in the youth. It smoldered in the eyes set atop a scowl, burned in the set of his jaw. The Wild raged in this one.

Interesting. One that never wanted to lose, against one who never had. He had spirit, no doubt. Power and skill in abundance. Speed. A deadly fighter, that just could be pushed beyond that. But he needed patience, control. Guidance.

“Come now. Again.”

A brief pass, and then he flung the student back. Sloppy. The parry was wrong, timing off. He watched with clinical detachment as the young warrior staggered into a fighting pose.

Rage, in the eyes. Grip too tight, legs too far apart. He could see Claud was angry now. Why? 

“I don’t need this! All you do is beat me down, and then you’re telling me to get up again! No advice, no nothing! A pause, a ragged breath drawn in. “I’d be better off trainin’ alone.”

“Do so, then.”

His eyes flicker. What is he thinking? Two so alike it is almost uncanny. ”I’m not thinkin’ that. I’m thinkin’ you’re not so tough yourself. C’mon!” A ready guard position, blade out. 

He thinks to defeat me? A lesson learnt, at best.

*****

And now it seemed like he would. And it appeared that the lessons were indeed well learnt. Farusion snapped out, leading, taunting. Endgame. A final, quick flash, the rasp of breath, forming ice upon the too-close blade, and the finishing blow…

Blood stained the snow red.

“You were always too slow.” 

“Damn you.” He could feel his lungs straining against the cold air, each breath pain as blood seeped out from the gash in his side. “Damn you!” Claud spat out. He sank Farusion into the ground, pushing up with every bit up energy he could muster, feeling the icy-fanged wind, the tiredness. “Damn. You.” Gods, it hurt. No. He couldn’t. Pain.

Aerith. Tifia. 

“DAMN YOU!!”

It exploded around him, a wall of bright flame that threatened to consume his inner being. Hungry, primal, it threatened his very sanity even as it lent him strength. The flow of blood ceasing, the pounding, rushing in his skull, Sephiroth, the ice, snow and wind, and the Farusion’s song, all in one brilliant cacophony of sight and sound.

Then Sephiroth’s voice. “To the death, this time.” Energy blazing around him, Claud stood. The angel of death. That was what his teacher looked like. Strange, that he only realized it now.

Azure orbs, locked to snow-white ones.

"To the death, and may the spirits show mercy."

"Steel to steel, and dust to dust."

And battle was joined.


End file.
